The Boy and the Bridge

His eyes drifted across the long, narrow bridge
Fog encompassed the bridge so that he could only guess at it's length
If his guess was accurate though there were over three hundred and sixty steps - probably more

His breathing grew sharp as he strained to keep air going to his lungs
He looked down to see shaking hands and unmoving feet
He closed his eyes, hoping to wish it all away - hoping to hide from the weight of it

Eyes rose again as he tried to pull himself together and get himself to move
He needed to be brave, courageous, strong
But all his heart could claim to be was terrified, overwhelmed, weak

Abruptly an echo reached his ears, shattering the silence of his world
His eyes jerked in the direction of the sound
The fog parted for an instant and there, past the bridge, stood the girl - waiting

His eyes suddenly couldn't make her out and he realized they were damp with tears
He dried his eyes quick as he could but when he looked again there was only fog
So he looked down to the first step in front of him

He still didn't feel brave or courageous or strong
But he had somewhere to be and he wasn't about to let his insufficiencies stop him
He stepped onto the bridge